


Marked

by Cactusing (jojo_cactus)



Series: Shapeshifters Universe [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_cactus/pseuds/Cactusing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro's in heat and so is Sanji. But there's something else they must clear before they give into their instincts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

Zoro lit up the _n_ th incense for that night and settled back on his meditating mat. The soothing aroma of lavender, mixed with a small portion of spices, slowly filled his nostrils. Sitting cross-legged, he straightened his spine and inhaled deeply. The air felt still, pregnant with heat from the rows of candles he had positioned in his spacious chamber, and not a single rustle in the branches reached his sensitive ears. Everything was in order for a perfect meditation. Except he couldn’t bring himself to concentrate. Nettled, Zoro stood up and began flicking his tail.

There were roughly three reasons behind his foul mood. First of all, he was in heat. It was an annual thing, beginning around the eleventh month and bleeding into the next year, and normally wasn’t that big of a problem. He had a certain fox to take care of it or, perhaps more correctly, suffer through it with him, since they more often than not went into heat together. The problem, and this counted as the second reason, was that Sanji wasn’t around for this year’s rutting. Zoro never made his feelings explicit but he partially blamed - no, he _solely_ blamed the Wolves for their separation: ever since the fox had discovered his distant cousins in the mountains of Kuraigana five years ago, he had made it a habit to spend at least two consecutive months with them.

And it was now the _fourth_ month Sanji had been gone.

_Fourth._

_Four fucking months without Sanji._

Zoro kicked and flipped the mahogany table in a cry of anguish. He wasn’t particularly possessive or jealous, he didn’t think, but it was beyond impossible to keep his temper under control when latest gossip in the court was the newly found mate of the fox prince.

Yep, the third reason behind a broken dinner table, a hole in the magnificent walls of his father’s palace, a hallway with broken windows, two chairs with claw marks on its velvet backs, and finally, an expensive mahogany table now lacking one of its legs.

Sanji had supposedly found someone he wished marry while he was away from Zoro and the said person was now in Kuraigana, received in the opposite side of the palace from his own quarters in the east wing. He had yet to meet her (it could be a man, but Sanji was always more interested in the other sex), something Mihawk and he had wisely decided against. If he did and she truly happened to have the fox’s scent on her, then well, Zoro couldn’t swear that he wouldn’t rip her apart right there and then. The mysterious guest for her part kept to herself, a wise decision that sharply declined a chance meeting but one that also fed to the rumors. She had allegedly even refused his father the king’s request for council and had been excused because she had some sort of a contagious sickness. Allegedly, again.

That gave Zoro very limited options. Stay put in his room, because he was a tad more sensitive and violent when he was in heat, and try not to demolish it completely. Mihawk had acquiesced in his proposal that less than three-quarters of damage to his quarters go unnoticed. When Sanji returned, the two of them could talk this out like the responsible young adults they now were. Or else.

 _If only he’d return_ , he thought miserably as he flung his windows open, although he already knew it wasn’t going to help. There had been a time when nothing could make him leave indoors in December; now, it felt like a nice, cooling breeze to his heated body. Zoro let out a low groan and hunched over the windowsill. Perhaps he should go for a swim in the lake.

He smelled him before anything else. The incenses had dulled his nose, but this was a scent he’d learned to discern even in the rain: northern pine trees for a base, mixed with tobacco and fire, then musk had been added over the years. It also stank of something else he particularly disliked, but he could let that go for now.

Sanji jumped out of seemingly nowhere, a pale silhouette against the dark winter night, and balanced himself elegantly on the tree branch right by the window. He was dressed simply, a thin white shirt and black form-fitting trousers being all.

He raised a hand toward him and Zoro leaned in eagerly. It was hot.

“Hello there, kitty,” said the fox teasingly. “Did you miss me?”

“I have perfectly legitimate reasons to be mad at you, just so you know,” he growled.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to be madder if you don’t keep petting me though.”

That drew a quick laugh from Sanji, scintillating as ever. The young tiger closed his eyes and focused on the touch. He even allowed himself to be scratched under his chin and he may or may not have purred a little. It improved his mood greatly; he could humor this insolent fox with some grace, sure.

Then Zoro grabbed both his wrists and used all his strength to hurl him over the window, and into the room. Sanji yelped in surprise. They fell backwards on the carpet, knocking out a vase in the process, and immediately locked each other in a kiss.

Physical contact was definitely the best sedative out there. No more of the first-class potion or herbal tea or incense bullshit; nothing could rival - _this_. Sanji’s long slender fingers roaming freely over his body. Tugging at his ears for starts, rubbing the sides of his face, then gently squeezing his shoulders. One hand cupped his face and held it firmly in place as they deepened the kiss. The other settled on his bare chest and Zoro tightened his grip on the slender waist, trying to steady himself from the overwhelming sensation that spread throughout his body like wildfire.

“Zoro,” Sanji breathed out when they broke away for air. “I-”

“Shut up,” he hissed, dragging the fox into another heated kiss. Tongue and tongue chased after one another, engaging in a playful yet desperate attempt to stay in contact for as long as possible. Insatiable heat blossomed in his mind.

There was a sudden movement under him, a startled jerk that turned into an attempt to break free. He didn’t budge. This was seriously overdue. For two months he had to tend to his needs on his own. Sanji fucking owed him this, and nothing could be a reason good enough to stop him. And who could forget the lovely lady in the tower? Zoro tightened his grip and licked at what tasted increasingly like blood on his lips. Oh wait.

“Shit, sorry.”

Sanji merely looked at him. Rather reproachful, but otherwise uncomplaining. Without a word he opened his arms. Zoro planted apologetic kisses down the delicate curve of his neck, then let the fox gently gather him in his arms. They stayed like that for a moment, content just to be close to each other.

It was always the hands. They began with drawing circles on the back of his shoulders, pressing down where the hard muscles were, and swept over his back in one swift motion. Zoro moaned in satisfaction and rubbed his cheeks against his lover’s chest. The familiar, soothing scent tinged with beginning of sweat. There was also a little bit of his own, heavy of soil and grass, and the recognition soon rekindled the fire in him.

Zoro slipped his hands under the fox’s oversized shirt. Its front was open, stopping midway down the chest, and without buttons. A clever choice, one that could survive impatient ripping. The tiger in heat decided to rip it off anyway. Sanji glared at him, but any creative insults he might have devised during their separation were drowned in the passionate kiss that followed.

They rolled on the carpet, then again, and once more, so that the older prince was on top. He pushed hair out of his face, revealing it completely for once in a long time. It showed another clear blue eye and an eyebrow that curled in the same direction as the other. Zoro looked up, mesmerized. As much as he liked the view, he wasn’t always entitled to it even in the most intimate moments like this.

“Sorry I didn’t write,” Sanji rushed, taking advantage of the tiger’s stillness. “Ace set our caravans on fire and we were left foraging in the woods for the rest of the journey.”

He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s the least of it.”

The fox’s eyebrows sagged. Zoro’s ears twitched; it was seriously adorable, criminally so. He bit down on his lip and kept his stare, silently egging the other to continue.

“Well, all right. I’m sorry I left you alone when you were in heat. But I’ve been suffering my share, as you can see, and I’m here to see the end of it now.”

“That’s more like it. You still have a lot to explain.”

“Can I do that in bed?” he asked hopefully.

Zoro weighed both sides of the argument in his head. On one hand, his instincts were basically screaming at him to just go with the offer. Sanji looked like he was ready to be pounced or do the pouncing himself, it was obvious they both needed some release badly and instantly. On the other hand, the tiny bit of reason that had managed to keep itself anchored in the flood of lust was insisting, in a small but one very determined voice, that they deal with a more intellectually challenging problem first.

“Zoro?” the fox nudged his sides with his knees.

“Yes. Just thinking. Sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” he looked genuinely worried. How touching. “I mean, you don’t think much in general.”

Or not, actually.

“You’re rude for someone with windmills for eyebrows.”

“The shape of my eyebrows has nothing to do with windmills _or_ my rudeness for that matter, you ungrateful feline,” Sanji sat down forcefully on Zoro’s groin, causing the latter to throw his head back in painful arousal.

“What the fuck was that,” he wheezed. “Remember that I was mad at you? Still am?”

“Yeah, I figured you would be. That’s why I fucking offered myself to you here and look what I get. An inattentive cub.”

“Don’t call me _that_.”

“I’ll say it however many times I feel like saying it. Or do you prefer pussy?”

Another four months without him was starting to sound attractive. Zoro pulled up from the ground completely, uncaring that the sudden movement had Sanji falling back on his ass. A simple wooden chair was among the few furniture in his room to have survived his wrath these past few weeks and he seated himself in it now, wincing when its narrow structure forced him to pull his thighs together.

“Talk,” he ordered.

Sanji crossed his arms over his chest. They both knew they weren’t used to taking orders and it irritated them to no end when someone did try to order them around, except when it was the elder tiger perhaps. So he kept his lips sealed tight.

“Dammit, Sanji,” the tiger’s growl was low and threatening. “explain yourself. Are you getting married?”

The arms came undone a little, mouth agape. “ _What_.”

“Don’t even,” he closed his eyes. It helped him focus better. “Your fiancee’s here.”

“Oh,” said the voice. It sounded somewhat taken aback, but in the manner that told Zoro this wasn’t the first time it had heard of it. Of course, this was Sanji’s own engagement they were talking about.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked anyway, ignoring the lump in his throat.

“Well.”

So it was true.

He wished he had left at least one incense on - never did he imagine that he would come to detest to fox’s scent, but he did this very moment. It felt wrong to be in the same room as him, mixing their scents.

“Robin’s my second cousin,” the voice continued. Now he had a name to go with the face, if he did end up seeing it. “and she also happens to be the one of the few surviving royal members for Baratie. I - well, I don’t think the details would interest you greatly so long story in short: we reunited in Alabasta, she was leaving, I was just entering, she didn’t know what had become of our kingdom, she’d been away for years, so I directed her here.

“I wrote a letter to your father, explaining who she is and so on. I didn’t, I didn’t tell him we were going to be married,” it laughed nervously. “but I can imagine where the confusion rose. She did propose to me the night before she left and I said I’d consider it because, if our bloodline is to somehow continue…”

“Sounds like she’s the perfect fit,” he spat.

“Robin really is perfect,” it admitted. “to the point it’s a bit scary. I can see you already hate her and you two probably won’t get along well either, but I could learn to be fond of her and vice versa. It’s all very...rational, you know. _She_ ’s very rational.”

 _I don’t and I don’t ever want to know_ , he thought to himself angrily.

“So, what do you want to do?” he said instead.

“I had frankly forgotten about her,” the voice replied after a pause. Then it added, “I wanted to see you.”

“To fuck, yeah.”

“Don’t mince my words,” it sounded angry. And hurt. He could smell it, open wound with gushing blood and all.

The smell came closer. Two hands hovered over his shoulders, as if they were afraid to touch - and he wasn’t sure if he was glad they did.

“Would you believe me if I said I loved you now?” Sanji asked, his voice wet with tears. “You won’t even look at me.”

“I do,” he pushed his hands away. “believe you. It doesn’t matter though, does it? We don’t - we can’t always marry for love, I get that.”

“But I want to.”

He laughed earnestly. Moments like these reminded him of days when Sanji was just a little boy, himself littler. What brought them together was a pure horror, but those days had been gold. Learning each other’s ways, about their likes and dislikes, their fears and hopes, and somehow and somewhere their dreams had become one.

The fox was kissing him now, on his forehead and his temples and his cheeks, and everywhere else except his lips. So Zoro drew him into a full kiss, there was nothing to be afraid of.

“Then stay with me,” he whispered when their lips parted.

Sanji’s eyes gleamed. He whispered back and his lover’s face lit up brightly.

They continued to whisper throughout the night, loud enough for only the other to hear, as if the two of them were the last humans left on this earth. Every touch was proof of their existence. Zoro cherished all of it, down to its smallest moment, and for the first time they made love didn’t care if he was lost in the other’s scent. He welcomed it. If he could somehow become a part of Sanji, he would gladly take the opportunity.

  


-

  


Something was wrong with him - but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Sanji checked his reflection in the mirror for the tenth time in the last two minutes, he just couldn’t walk past it. He looked perfect as always, of course. Hair not a strand out of place, check. Clean-shaved and a dashing smile at command, check. The long night - he blushed a little upon reflection - had hardly weighed down on his looks, which was somewhat surprising. At any rate, his light blue gray coat and trousers of matching color were ironed and starred no unsightly wrinkles or specks and his shoes sparked under the morning lights. His white ears were perky and his tail licked slick. Another huge check. Yet there was something the matter with him - he felt, as strange as it was put it that way, unfamiliar to himself.

“Do I smell off? I feel kind of off,” he addressed the other, who was sprawled half naked over the bed. Apparently, falling asleep while changing was still going at twenty.

“No,” Zoro mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “and I’d know.”

“That’s true. Oh well. See you in the dining hall?”

“Yeah.”

Sanji walked up to the bed to give his tiger a quick kiss.

 

This had yet to be the most bizarre thing that had happened to Sanji in years. The moment he walked into the dining hall, Ace and Luffy took one look at him and jumped away from their food. It was concerning to say the least, the wolf brothers never ever let their attention stray in the presence of edibles. His worry escalated when the younger of the two began gagging obnoxiously and disappeared under the long, clothed table.

“Oh my god,” Ace croaked as he pinched his nose with his fingers. “How much sex did you have last night? You reek of that cat!”

“And good morning to you, sir,” he remarked dryly. All right, so they went at more than they usually did and that naturally meant Zoro’s scent lingered on him longer and stronger than usual. Most unfortunate that he had immature puppies for cousins, nevertheless he could live with a day or two of their exaggeration. And suffer through future random reiterations. Annoying, but certainly livable.

Until his still-standing cousin spoke again.

“You might want to jump in soap water and never come out.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

“He _marked_ you.”

“He _what_?” Sanji’s jaw dropped to the floor. Quite literally. He almost fainted.

Marking. Now that was a sensitive territory. He still remembered the day Mihawk felt obligated to give Zoro and him the talk every parent felt obligated to give to their children when the latter reached a certain age, and that apparently applied to more or less every parent regardless of king or peasant. _Marking_ , the Great King of Tigers had explained humorlessly, _used to be when a male would mark a female with his scent, usually after an intercourse, as a way of claiming ownership for the lack of a better word. As we evolved, it came to occur under certain conditions only, namely when the two individuals involved in the act felt a strong psychological as well as physical attraction to each other. Sometimes it also happens outside amorous situations: a parent may mark his or her child in order to protect it in times of potential threats…_

“Oh my god,” he grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled in horror. “Do I smell that bad?”

Ace opened his mouth to say something, then vanished under the table. More gagging ensued. Sanji took that as a yes.

He turned on his heels, a hot, steamy bath with all the soap he could get his paws on mind. There was no way, not even when hell would freeze, he was walking around the palace with this strong of Zoro’s scent on him. Marking could last as long as a week if left on its own. Its sole point was to make the marked smell terrible to others outside their relationship and while Sanji had no intention of getting intimate with anyone else but Zoro, he also didn’t want to advertise to the tigers that he had slept with their prince.

Then there was Zoro’s father to think about. He most certainly didn’t want him to know, who was, in fact, approaching him from the other side of the hallway.

Sanji stopped.

They both stopped.

If the older man had known about their relationship before, he never made a show of it and Sanji was willing to bet he actually hadn’t despite their scents rubbing off each other all the time. The King just wasn’t very quick with that side of life. But marking was impossible to ignore…

“I. Uh. Um,” he tried to explain himself, at least offer a greeting, and nothing came out. Mihawk was staring at him intensely, his unblinking golden eyes wide in shock and his pale complexion turning paler with every bit of realization. Sanji wished he could just turn to dust and have the soft breeze whisk him away.

Zoro tumbled into the hallway through an open window, crashing an armor in display in his wake. Sanji did something close to a shriek and jumped back out of reflex.

“I knew this was the quickest way,” the young tiger smirked. He stood up, took in his surroundings, and looked back and forth between his father and his fox. “Good morning?”

Mihawk closed his eyes and began massaging his temples. “I seem to have developed an incurable migraine. I must immediately retire to bed; do not ask for me until I send for either of you. Good day.”

He was gone in the blinking of an eye. Zoro looked untroubled, if nonplussed.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

 

-

  


They both agreed this was the worst thing that could possibly happen to them in his father’s presence, but decided to reconsider that bath. Their scents balanced each other out when they were together, which was why Ace and Luffy were back on the table and eating away as though they’d been starving for weeks.

“Please do bathe,” Ace encouraged. “You two smell just barely tolerable.”

“Maybe not, if it means I can have him to myself longer,” the tiger said shamelessly and Sanji felt the rising need to hide his face behind a jar of milk. He needed time to get used to all this sweet talk he was being thrown at.

“I’m so bringing Marco next time, see how you like my scent then.”

“Oh!” Luffy brightened. “Can I bring Torao, too?”

“NO.”

“You seem to forget I’m the host here,” Zoro grumbled.

“Oh come on,” the older wolf  grinned slyly. “You love Marco.”

He reflected. The peacock’s latest visit had left him with a black eye and a pissed Sanji.

“Sure, whatever,” he replied sarcastically.

“Yeah! And Torao’s really funny.”

“I said no, Luffy.”

“But ACE.”

“No means no.”

Luffy’s large ears slumped and Sanji fed him a sausage link to cheer him up. Worked every time.

An arm wrapped around his waist and he looked up to meet Zoro’s smiling eyes. He smiled back. Here was something they could work on, and for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I get distracted easily so this turned out somewhat differently from what I envisioned.  
> I also imagine Robin and Snaji talked and they sorted everything out in the end. yay happy ending


End file.
